


Sam(uel)

by wildberryzz



Category: iCarly
Genre: F/F, Futanari, Girl Penis, Reincarnation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-09
Updated: 2018-03-15
Packaged: 2018-12-13 09:37:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11757060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wildberryzz/pseuds/wildberryzz
Summary: Sam Puckett is cleaning out her Grandmothers attic when she stumbles upon an old chest. Now she must help her ancestor find his soul mate or be stuck with him forever, and stuck with certain parts of his anatomy as well. Futa CAM





	1. The Attic

**Author's Note:**

> All content is use under the Fair Use Act. I do not own nor profit from this venture.

“God, alright already!” Sam shouted, storming up the carpeted stairs to the second story. “I don’t understand why I have to help clean up Gran’s old shiz anyways,” she mumbled under her breath in annoyance.

For once, it was a beautiful Saturday in Seattle. The sun was shining, the sky was clear, and there Sam was stuck inside of her Grandmother’s house for ‘spring cleaning’. While Sam loved her Grandmother greatly (after all she was the one who taught the young Puckett most of her breaking-and-entering skills) she was probably at least equally disdainful of house hold chores.

“Start with the attic, Melanie should have left the cleaning supplies up there!” her mother shouted with a wicked grin. Sure she loved her daughters, but sometimes it was fun to torture them a little here and there. Mama-Puckett was only human after all.

 Blue eyes peered into the bucket brimming with chemicals and dusters. Carelessly hefting the grey container over her shoulder Sam walked over to the old wooden staircase that was already pulled free from the ceiling.

“Because that doesn’t look sketchy at all,” Sam huffed, tentatively placing a converse-clad shoe onto the faded wood. The staircase squealed with each hesitant step, and Sam let out a sigh of relief when she finally placed both feet onto the floor of the attic. 

Her nose wrinkled at the heavy smell of must and dust that clung to the air. She traced her finger along the top of an old dresser, grimacing at the thick pad of dust she accumulated on her finger.

“Really? When was the last time anyone was up here?” she mused to herself, wiping her hand off on her torn blue jeans, “Might as well get this over with.”

Pulling out the old feather duster Sam began to assault the modest sized attic. The blonde quickly tugged her shirt over her nose, small clouds of dust dancing around her as she carelessly navigated her way through the store room of old forgotten items. The dull gray room began to come to life as vivid colors and textures were freed from their dust tombs. Finally Sam reached the other end of the attic where a small circular window sat caked with grime. Using her jacket cover elbow Sam cleaned a small circle and peered curiously outside. Bright golden sunlight burst into the room causing Sam to stumble back and cover her eyes with a small cry of shock.

“What the frick,” she growled, rubbing her eyes vigorously, “stupid sun!”

Blinking away the white spots, she peered outside of the small segment of cleared glass once more. A dull skyline of trees met her gaze. “Lame,” she commented quietly.

Tromping back to the bucket, Sam pulled out some glass cleaner and paper towels. With clear glass, the small window poured forth an endless stream of yellow light, bringing the attic to life. Sam spun on her heel, grimacing at the streak of foot prints in the dust coated floor.

“Just great,” she growled.

With an angry huff she marched down the creaking the staircase, stomped down the cream-colored stairwell, stalked into the kitchen and yanked the broom from her mother, and repeated her journey back to the attic. The mother of the Puckett twins laughter could be heard from the house next door.

Broom in tow, Sam began sweeping the splintering wood floor. The mind numbing activity began to lull her into a daze, her blue eyes sweeping the attic without thought.

It was then. The broom came to a halt; blue eyes glued themselves to a chest she had previously failed to notice before. Letting the broom clatter to the ground, Sam stepped slowed towards the black chest, a strange sort of excitement shooting through her veins. Her hands shook as she knelt down; fingers gripped the side handles of the large box. She gave it a tug, and was surprised by how heavy the container seemed to be. Shifting her weight for better leverage, she tugged again using her full body weight. The chest jumped free of its hiding place beneath a table.

Regaining her balance Sam crawled over to the opening of the chest, admiring the gold embossed _S. Puckett_ on the face. She jingled the lock and grinned. With a little more cajoling the old, rusted lock creaked and fell to the ground. Sheer delight twinkled in blue eyes as Sam pushed open the chest and began to rummage through the contents. Inside she found men’s clothing, but the style looked from several generations ago. Shifting the clothes to the side a pile of journals with the same embossing as the chest were exposed. Sam picked up one of the brown leather journals and flipped it open. The ripe scent of old books assaulted her noise as she quickly skimmed the sharp cursive handwriting. Finding nothing of interest in the journal her rummage through the chest continued.

Shoving the books to one side, a devious smile stretched across Sam’s face. An old liquor bottle rested at the very bottom of the chest, surrounded by a protective layer of woolen socks. Pulling out the thick glass bottle, Sam wiped at the sides to try and find a label however the label appeared to have been scratched out some time ago. With a shrug Sam slammed the chest shut and sat down on top of it. With a twist of her wrist the cork slid out with a loud, satisfying pop. Sam brought the bottle to her nose, taking a deep breath of the brisk scent of hard liquor.

After a quick scan of the attic, and feeling assured that no one was going to walk in on her, Sam brought the bottle to her mouth and took a large swig. The taste was nothing she had ever had, and it frankly it wasn’t good either. Like some strange combination of green tea, lavender, and whiskey. Sam forced the mouthful down, the burn unconscionable compared to other liquors she had tried before.

“The shiz,” she whizzed while beating on her chest as she tried to control the coughing fit that overcame her.  Roughly jabbing the cork in place Sam rose and replaced the bottle in the chest.

“Freaking gross, man!” she coughed, roughly shoving the chest back underneath the table.

“Are you almost done up there, Sam?” Melanie’s voice flitted through the attic opening.

Sam jumped and walked over to look down at her mirror image. “Yeah, Mel. Be down in like five, ‘kay?”

The other twin nodded and disappeared from sight. Sam sighed and picked the broom back, attempting to finish what she had started. The burn inside of her stomach began to subside, and for the rest of the day Sam gave no thought to the black chest in the attic.

By dinnertime however, Sam felt as sick as she did when Missy had slipped her spoiled chocolates three years ago. Hidden under a pile of blankets she moaned in pain, clutching her stomach. Melanie walked in with a wet rag and stomach medicine.

“Here,” Melanie sat down next to her twin and ran the rag across Sam’s sweaty forehead. Sam moaned in a combination of relief and pain. Melanie poured the purple liquid onto the spoon and held it out. “Swallow,” she commanded gently.

Sam wrapped her lips around the spoon and swallowed the purple swill. Falling back into the blankets she rolled over onto her side again.

“Why don’t you take a shower and I will change the sheets?” Melanie offered, saddened by the sight of the sickly teenager. “It might make you feel better.”

Sam moaned, squeezing her eyes shut even tighter. Her tank top was plastered to skin with sweat, and she felt grimy after the whole day of cleaning. She chewed on the thought mentally for several seconds before rolling out of bed, grabbing a change of clothes and a towel, and stumbling into the bathroom.

Melanie couldn’t help but smile as she watched the other version of herself stumble blindly into the bathroom. With a sigh, she started to strip the bed.

Sam sighed in content as the steaming water soothed her aching muscles and cleaned away the grim and sweat from the day. She felt the familiar pangs of arousal, and groaned in excitement as she relaxed the best way she knew how, a hot shower and an orgasm.

By the time Sam stumbled out of the bathroom Melanie had made the bed and left a glass of water and the bottle of stomach medicine on the nightstand. The bed was neatly made with fresh blue bed sheets. Sam crawled underneath the sheets, and in an instant fell into a deep, dream filled sleep.

 The loud blare of her mother’s voice was the next thing Sam heard. Her mom and Gran were arguing outside of the house by the beat up wagon the Puckett family owned.

“No I will not adopt another one of your cats!” her mom shouted, storming into the garage and muffling the rest of the conversation.

Sam rolled over and stretched, making a satisfied noise in the back of her throat. The aches and pains of the day before had seemingly melted away over night. Sam was contented to remain the confines of the soft sheets as long as she could, but her body was telling her otherwise.

“Oh man, I need to take a leak,” Sam groaned, all but sprinting into the bathroom. Slamming the white door shut, she tugged her plaid pajama pants down but paused. Her green boxer shorts looked different, more filled out. Sam grumbled, pulling the waistband away from her skin and with the other hand reached in to tug out whatever had made its way into her shorts (it had happened before, after all). Her hands however did not find socks like she had been expecting.

Sam pushed her boxer shorts down and stared at the new fleshy protrusion before proceeding to let out a head-splitting scream.

“What the fuck is this?!” Sam screeched, poking at the new appendage. A nervous tingle coursed through her body. Sam realized that she could in fact receive sensory data from the new…thing, it was real.

“That, lil’ miss, is called a penis.”

Sam jumped, tugging her boxers back up to her waist. “Who said that!” she leered, twisting in the small bathroom in an attempt to find the peeping-tom.

“I did, you moron!”

Sam jumped again. With a snap of her waist she whirled around and sent a jab into the direction of the voice. Straight into the mirror.

“GAH! Damn it!” she cried, cradling her bloody knuckles to her chest.

“You really should look before you punch your own reflection, idiot.”

Eyes blurred with tears Sam looked up to the broken mirror. Within the spidery lines of broken shards a tall blonde man smirked back at her. Sam looked over her shoulder, seeing no one there.

“I must be tripping on something,” she grumbled staring at the image in the mirror. “Cause this is some messed up shit.”

“I could only wish it was really that simple,” the man sighed. He stepped away from the epicenter of the impact, his image becoming clearer. “Unfortunately, that is not the case.”

Sam cocked an eyebrow, unimpressed by the hallucination. “Sure thing, imaginary-friend-o-mine,” she picked up a towel and wrapped it around her bruising knuckles, “whatever floats your pretend-boat.”

“This is serious Samantha, you rea-”

“Oh, no no no no no! No creation of my brain is going to be calling me Samantha,” Sam spat, leaning against the wall across the mirror.

“Fine then,” he sighed in exasperation. “Sam,” he enunciated pointedly, “I need you to stop being a meat head for two minutes and listen to me.”

Sam scratched her head with her good hand, “I knew all those cleaning chemicals were going to give me brain damage, thanks Mom!” she grumbled.

“Would you be quiet!” the man in the mirror snapped, his blue eyes shining just a bit more brightly.

Sam went to retort, but found her jaw clamped shut. She rubbed her jaw, huffing and grunting angrily as it continued to refuse to open.

The man chuckled, “Good, now where was I? Ah, right. So Sam, did you happen to do anything strange yesterday? Find something, touch something, consume something…?” he asked.

Sam huffed, what harm could it be if she told her hallucination about the bottle in the attic. She mimed taking a drink out of bottle.

The man slapped his forehead with the palm of his hand. “My reincarnation is as stupid as I was at that age,” he groaned. “And it’s a girl. Screw you too, karma!”

“Reincar- what?” Sam asked, resting her elbows against the sink.

“Reincarnation- ugh, you know what. Let me start from the beginning,” the man in the mirror sighed. “My name is Samuel Puckett.”

Sam gave him a blank stare, her mind fleeting more towards the waves of pain emitting from her hand, “So what?”

“So what?” he mocked, “So when you drank my Shen instead of it just passing through you, it thought it found its body again and now I am stuck inside of you!” he jabbed his finger against the mirror.

“My bad?” Sam shrugged her shoulders, “so wait a sec, you mean that nasty butt drink I found in the attic?” she asked.

“Exactly,” Samuel crossed his arms. “And now it appears that I am stuck inside of you and you well…grew a penis in an attempt to fix the yin and yang between our two spirits.”

Sam groaned, her stomach flipping at the reminder of her new friend. “Yin yang Shen, I don’t see how Chinese food has anything to do with this!” she grabbed the front of her shorts.

“I was in the business of trading less than legal Chinese goods and drugs, you see my supplier was an old Chinese lady who mixed me up a Shen, it was medicine made specifically for my spirit. She said to be careful with it but how the hell was I supposed to know that my silly female reincarnation was going to go and drink it!” he huffed, catching his breath. “Our spirit is whole, it has both yin and yang, and it can be brought back in both those forms. I am the yang, the masculine half, while you’re the yin, feminine. My best guess is that our merging created a balance of yin and yang, you keep your feminine qualities but also have male ones too.”

“So you sold drugs, had some crazy Asian lady made you a drink with your spirit in it, and left it in a chest for me to find?” Sam summarized, scrunching up her face, “If she made you the medicine, why didn’t you ever take it?”

Samuel deflated, his shoulder slumping into his chest. “The love of my life’s husband came and shot me…he discovered that Charlotte and I were having an affair. I suppose someone packed my stuff away and sent it to my family in Washington.”

“Wow, it really does run in the family,” Sam laughed sliding down the wall and thumping heavily against the tile floor.

“You seem to be taking this rather well,” Samuel commented, looking down at the young woman.

“I don’t know why, I should be fucking freaked that I have a dick and a voice in my head that comes with hallucinations in mirrors but…” she gazed down at the apex between her legs. “I don’t feel like it’s wrong. My stomach isn’t telling me that anything is wrong. My brain does, but my heart doesn’t. I just-”

A loud banging on the bathroom door startled Sam out of her musing.

“Grandma says if you broke her mirror she is not going to be very happy,” Melanie warned from the other side of the door.

Sam scurried to her feet and cracked the door open, blues eyes meeting identical ones, “Yeah, I am sure in far more colorful words,” she snorted.

Melanie blushed and stepped back, “She may have said it in more vulgar terms but I got the message across.

“Okay,” Sam drawled, “You going to let me shit in peace?” she sniggered.

Melanie sighed and walked away, wondering how she and Sam could ever be related.

Sam turned around, poised to ask another question but paused in surprise. The mirror rested across from her completely unharmed, and her own reflection greeted her. She unwrapped her hand gingerly, eyes growing even wider. Her knuckles, once bleeding profusely, were fine.

“That was some strange shit,” she rested against the counter gazing at her reflection.

“Indeed.”

Sam gave a shriek and fell backwards, her face morphing back into Samuels.

“I am not dreaming.”

“No, you aren’t.”


	2. Past Lives

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: All content is used under the Fair Use Act, I do not own nor profit from this venture.

Carly Shay couldn’t pin point what was wrong with her best friend. She knew that the blonde had bathed, was well feed (with ham no less), made some spare pocket change from helping her grandmother, and even appeared to be on civil terms with most of her eccentric family.

So what was bothering Sam?

She noticed that something was off with the young rebel when Sam gave Carly the most awkward hug in the history of hugging-kind. It had taken years to train the young Puckett in the art of proper hug-age, so when Sam gave the awkward Christian side hug Carly immediately knew something was wrong. Where was the full body contact? The strong arms wrapped tightly around her? The scent of her vanilla shampoo?

It did not stop there either. While Sam’s appetite had been unreal before, it now bordered on insane. Spencer’s theory that a black hole opened up in her stomach was starting to look plausible and Carly was a semi-realist. Having to grocery shop every single day was becoming a little out of hand, and Spencer was understandably displeased.

Then there was this sudden need for personal space, personal space? Neither girl had a semblance of personal space with the other for years! If there were bubbles, theirs were shared! But suddenly Sam needed ‘alone time’ and refused to share a bed with her best friend turned girlfriend (almost a year ago- thirteen days till their anniversary, Carly mentally noted). And frankly, Carly was becoming a little more than upset.

The brunette tapped her foot impatiently, her hard gaze leveled on the door. Sam would be walking through that door soon after a trip to the corner store for some Peppy Cola. Carly glanced at her watch, crossing her arms tightly against her body. A swirl of adrenaline rushed through her as the door handle jiggled. She was going to get an answer from the petite blonde. By force if she had to.

“Hey Car- Ouch, you okay there?” Sam knelt down, worry written on her face as she assessed the face-planted form of Carly Shay.

Carly groaned, picking herself up off the ground with the assistance of her girlfriend. She had definitely misjudged that one, perhaps leaping off the armchair next to the door to tackle Sam wasn’t the best idea ever.

“Hey, you are starting to freak me out here. Earth to Shay, come in Shay!” Sam knelt down next to Carly, waving her hand in front of Carly’s face a couple times.

“I am fine,” Carly waved her off, shuffling to her feet. “Just tripped is all.”

“Yeah,” Sam snorted, “just tripped a couple of vertical feet in the air. Do you want to tell me what really happened?”

Carly huffed and crossed her arms, “My ambush failed.”

“Your ambush?”

“My ambush.”

“Try that one again, in English,” Sam asked striding into the kitchen and putting the case of Peppy Cola into the fridge.

Carly sighed for what felt like the umpteenth time that day. “I just,” she gnawed on her lip, “you haven’t really been…here recently.”

Sam swallowed the lump that suddenly formed in her throat, her eyes glued to the white teeth grazing over sweet pink lips. “I- I ahhh, I have been here Carls,” she choked out.

“No you haven’t Sam!” Carly brought out the puppy dog eyes. Sam felt herself almost literally melt. “Well, I mean you have literally been here-here, but not up here,” Carly pointed to her head.

“I have a lot on my mind?” Sam responded, cursing that her answer sounded more like a question.

 _Don’t you though?_ Sam winced.

“See, like that!” Carly snapped. She stalked toward Sam until the rebel was pinned to the fridge. Carly couldn’t help but to smile as she felt Sam’s arms instinctively wrap around her waist. “What’s that matter?”

It took all of her effort not to groan out loud as Carly pressed herself flush against her front. A newly familiar and very unwanted sensation began to rise in the pit of her stomach. “I literally have a lot on my mind, you know with college and all…” she fibbed, conjuring up images of very unappealing things to prevent the swell of excitement from proceeding any further— most of them involving Freddie’s mom.

Carly leaned back, seeing the wash of nerves evident on the young Puckett’s face. She and Sam had discussed their plans for their continued education before, but as application deadlines grew closer Carly could understand Sam’s apparent trepidation concerning school, given her record and all.

“Oh, Sam” she fussed, tucking a stray strand of blonde hair away. “You know that you stand a good chance at getting into every school you are applying to! You worked really hard to get your grades up,” Carly traced her face with her finger tips. “You just have to keep trying,” she gave her girlfriend a brief peck on the lips.

A jolt ran through Sam’s body, fueling the growing fire in her body. “I have to use the loo!” she cried, gently but rapidly extracting herself from Carly and all but sprinting into the bathroom.

The door slammed shut behind her, leaving Sam alone in the small restroom. She glared at the mirror, unsurprised as Samuel appeared. It had been five days since the attic incident. The image of her dear, dead past life appeared to be only visible in reflections.

“You seem to have to the self control of a prepubescent overly sexualized boy,” Samuel commented, smirking at the growing bulge within Sam’s jeans, “at least you are a well endowed one.”

Sam huffed, ensuring that the door was locked before she flicked the tub water on and sat down on the closed toilet seat. “Oh shut it,” she hissed quietly.

“You can’t hide this forever you know,” Samuel commented, having the decency to look away as Sam went about fixing her problem. “You do have an anniversary coming up, and you know as well as I do that you are ‘going to be getting some’, to put it into modern terms.”

“Gah, would you shut-up already? And how the hell do you know about our anniversary!?” Sam glared at the mirror.

“What else do I have to do all day while stuck in your mind but browse a little,” Samuel supplied.

“It isn’t like I can do anything about this,” Sam growled, getting up to wash her hands in the sink.

“You haven’t really tried anything, now have you?” Samuel asked.

“I used the internet,” Sam deadpanned, turning the water off. “If the answer isn’t online somewhere, than it doesn’t exist.”

“I don’t know why your generation places so much stock in this ‘interweb’, but might I suggest a visit to Chinatown?” the well-dressed mirror image proposed.

“Why?” she shot back.

“I have a feeling that our answer might be there….”

“…and you didn’t mention this before because?”

“I hadn’t really thought of it,” he mused, the trademark I-Couldn’t-Care-Less Puckett grin gracing his features.

Sam opened the door, spotting Carly dressed in a skimpy pair of pajama shorts and one of the blondes band t-shirts eating popcorn on the couch. Two slender legs crossed over each other, tantalizing the blonde.

Sam gulped, for once happy about the fact that men have limited stamina. “So Cupcake, how’s about we go to Chinatown tomorrow to kiss and make-up?” Sam asked, flopping down onto the sofa.


	3. Chinatown

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: used under the Fair Use Act. 
> 
> Authors Note: hey guys! I picked the story back up a few years after I dropped it. Let me know what you think about (likes, dislikes, surprises) below!

Chapter 3: China Town

For once it seemed like fortune was smiling upon the young Puckett as she peddled aimless throughout the crowded streets of Seattle's Chinatown linked by the hand to her girlfriend. The sun was shining, the air was heavy with the scent of exotic foods, and there was a shard of hope that answers could found within the densely packed storefronts and street vendors. The blonde gnawed on the meat-on-a-stick she had bought from a toothless old man for a buck.

"Do you even know what that is?" Carly laughed, nudging Sam with her elbow.

Shooting back a smirk Sam dropped her nose, letting the brown aviator sunglasses slide down to revel mischievous blue eyes, "Good tasting?" she responded, taking another bite.

The brunette winced, watching white teeth tear into the unidentifiable meat. "Well no smooches for you until you brush those teeth!" she wrinkled her nose to emphasize her disdain.

Letting out an inward sigh of relief Sam grinned- today was just going her way. Spending time with her girlfriend, no fear of an 'incident' with the lack of PDA, and she got to try something new in the meat department- snake. Not that she would ever tell Carly that, she would never go near Sam's mouth again!

_Oh, but it's her mouth that you want to go near your-_

Sam shook her head, abruptly stopping Samuels commentary. On second thought, maybe not everything was going her way.

_Grow up already. I was just teasing! Anyways, I think may have found a good place to start. See that store up ahead with the bottle creatures in the window?_

Without slowing down in the slightest, Sam took stock of the store her past-life mentioned. Grime streaked windows revealed rows upon rows of pickled…creatures was a good word for it. She groaned out loud.

"Something wrong?" Carly asked, squeezing the blondes hand gently.

"I just remembered!" she paused, thinking of a plausible lie, "Mom wanted me to get something for Uncle Jackson while we were here."

Carly nodded. "Okay! Well what does he need?" she asked, a small smile gracing her silky, plump, tantaliz- Sam swallowed a whimper.

"Ah- he needs," she shoot a glance at the window, "a pickled shark!" Her stomach dropped as soon as she heard herself speak the words aloud.

Carly paled, knowing that with the Puckett family it was sometimes better not to ask questions. Her mouth opened and closed several times before coherent words fell from her lips. "O-kay…how about you get the um, pickled shark," she felt herself gag a little, "and I will meet you over by the noodle place we always go to."

_Pickled shark? Really?_

"Really?" Sam let out a breath she didn't know she was holding, "Oh thank you Cupcake, and I promise I won't be long!" Sam gave Carly a peck on the cheek before jogging ahead to the store.

Carly gave her girlfriend a smile, before realizing that Sam had just kissed her with unknown-meat-mouth. Groaning she rubbed her cheek, heading back the way the duo came from in search of some hand sanitizer to sterilize her face with.

The door pulled open begrudgingly, the heavy iron frame squealing and creaking the whole way. Sam stepped into the shop hesitantly. As the door slammed shut behind her the rare Seattle sun vanished, leaving behind a musty haze of grey.

"He-hello?" she called out, stepping further into the store.

The last thing Sam remembered was a flash of white, blinding light.

Samuel rubbed his chin, making a mental note that he needed a shave soon. He straightened up his tie and pressed down nonexistent wrinkles in his vest. Black shoes clicked loudly on the freshly polished wooden floors. He stopped and leaned down, pulling a small jade statue off one of the lower shelves.

"Don't touch that!" a low hiss came from behind him.

"Ah, Mimi. My hunch was correct, now wasn't it?" He pushed himself up, turning on heel to face the elderly Chinese woman.

"You stupid Puckett's!" the woman growled, hobbling over to Samuel with the aid of her wooden cane.

"Ow! What was that for?" Samuel exclaimed, grabbing his aching shin.

Mimi snickered, replacing the cane to the floor, "For being an idiot!"

"Yes, we already went over that part I believe. Now, on to business…"

"You want a cure?" she wheezed, steadily making her way towards the back of the store.

"That would be preferable," Samuel hummed, tucking his hands into his suit pant pockets.

Mimi whirled around, jabbing the blunted end of her cane into Samuel's chest, "Well there isn't one!" she shouted. "At least not one that young Samantha would agree upon."

"But there is one, in general I mean?" Samuel asked, resting his elbows upon the wooden counter at the back of the store.

"Yes and no," Mimi nodded.

The man groaned, "Please stop with the cryptic fluff and get on with the point!"

Mimi huffed, crossing her arms across her chest. "Fine, I will tell you. She needs to make a new body for your body to be reincarnated into," the Chinese woman deadpanned.

Samuel scratched his chin, "So like a dog, or a cat or something?" he asked.

She scowled, "No no no, you stupid boy!" she swatted at his chest, "she needs to plant her seed!" she exclaimed.

He tilted his head to the side, "so a tree…?" a smirk gracing his handsome features.

Mimi growled in annoyance. "You know what I mean you insulate little…Samantha needs to get her soul mate pregnant, you idiot!"

Samuel chuckled then paused, "Wait- you said her soul mate?" he asked.

Mimi simply nodded.

"So who is her soul mate than?" he implored, leaning against the shelf.

"That is something she must discover for herself," Mimi snickered, a look of mischief on her face.

"Oh no you don't you old hag," Samuel stood up, towering over Mimi. "I know that you know the identity of this woman. Now who is she!" he demanded.

"Good-bye now," Mimi gave him a shit-eating grin and waved.

Samuel felt a splitting pain in his head and the world flashed white. Sam blinked, her eyes flickering around the dusty, poorly lit shop. She turned around on her heel and nearly leapt out of her shoes- behind her stood an old lady, ancient in her opinion. The elderly Chinese woman gave her a toothless grin before shuffling slowly by. Sam watched the old lady pass and resisted the urge to bolt out of the store, instead opting for the far more dignified powerwalk.

She finally found Carly in the little outdoor food court with a steaming bowl of noodles and some mystery-meat-on-a-stick.

"Hey!" Carly looked up, her eyes lighting up when she spotted the blonde. "Did you find the shark?" she asked.

"No," Sam lied easily. "They were out, can you believe it?!"

_When you get a moment alone, I think we need to talk dear Samantha…._

All Sam could do was force a grin and give her past-life a mental kick in the ass.

Sam leaned forwards and gave her girlfriend a chaste kiss on the lips, "Well let's dig in!" she grabbed her chopsticks and attacked the food with fury.

The rest of the trip was uneventful, perhaps too uneventful. The young Puckett had gotten used to the constant commentary from her past-life floating around in the background but now there was just silence. The quiet worried her, it wasn't like Samuel to be so reserved.

Carly slide her key into the lock, opening the door to the apartment she and Spencer still lived in. "Could you just put the bags up in my room please?" she called over her shoulder as she made her way into the kitchen to put away the groceries.

"Sure thing, Cupcake!" Sam grunted, her arms laden with bag upon bag. She scowled to herself, wondering just how exactly Carly managed to purchase this much crap without her noticing until it was too late.

"Geez!" she cried, finally dropping all of the bags at the foot of her girlfriend's bed. Unfortunately (or fortunately, she wasn't sure yet) the video-mirror didn't work with Samuel so she ducked into the adjoined bathroom.

"Alright man, you can come out!" she sighed, crossing her arms. She didn't even flinch as her reflection flickered and transformed. "What the hell happened back there?" she inquired, glaring at the man in the mirror.

"Well, it's complicated…" Samuel mumbled, scratching the back of his head.

"Complicated how?" the younger Puckett sighed.

Carly giggled as she leapt her way up the stairs to surprise Sam with a plate of freshly made ham sandwiches. She waltzed into her bedroom, looking around for the shorter blonde.

"Sam?" she called out, unable to spot her. "Are you here?" she asked again.

The brunette set the plate down on her bedside table and ran a hand through her long hair. Brown eyes shifted to the bathroom door, a strip of light visible between the door and the carpet.

Carly shuffled towards to the bathroom door and raised her knuckles to knock-

"WHAAAAAT?!"

…and promptly leapt out of her own skin at the sudden deafening scream emanating from the porcelain palace within.

"SAM!" she cried, heart racing as she wrenched the door open.

"P-p-p-preg," Sam stuttered from her position on the floor, before promptly passing out.

Carly raced to her side, clutching the strong blonde by the shoulders to keep her upright.

"Sam!" Carly cried, shaking her shoulders. "Hey! Sam!"

A flicker above the sink caught her eye, but by the time Carly turned to stare at the mirror Samuel had rippled away.


	4. Ninjas of Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: all content used under the Fair Use Act

Carly paced downstairs in the living room. Behind her, Spencer worked on his latest and greatest (and stickiest) sculpture yet— Ode to Pancakes.

"If you keep it up you're going to burn a hole right into the floor, there kiddo!" Spencer commented, strategically drizzling his fake syrup concoction onto his creation.

"Add it to the ones you've already made," Carly snapped, her pace increasing.

"Ouch! Touche," the elder Shay conceded. He set down his cup of goop and walked over to his little sister, stopping her by the shoulders.

"Look Carls, Sam is going to be alright. The doctor said she's probably just anemic because of 'lady' problems," he soothed.

"I know," Carly groused, "but something else has been bugging Sam, I know it! She's been acting weird. Distant. I just, I just want to know what's up with her is all…."

"Sometimes Puckett's do funky things?" Spencer ventured, squeezing his sisters shoulders. "Just give Sam time. She'll tell you in her own time."

"Thanks Spenc," Carly sighed. "I'm just gonna go check on her."

"That's the fourth time this hour," he reminded her with a small smile.

"Whatever, go play with your food!" Carly chuckled, pulling away from Spencer.

Except her shirt resisted.

"Uh, Spenc?"

"Yes, Carls?"

"Did you wipe your hands off before you came over here?"

"No. No, I did not."

"You just glued yourself to my shirt, didn't you?"

"It appears so."

"Goddammit! Spencer!" Carly whined.

It wasn't the first time the two had ended up glued together. Hell, it wasn't even the first time this month (thus Carly's increasing exasperation). At least this time it involved clothing. The high-five incident from three years ago was still infamous amongst doctors and nurses alike in the Seattle area. An industrial glue company actually reached out to Spencer to try and buy his formula. It was bad.

"Close your eyes!" Carly commanded.

"Aye, aye, Captain!" Spencer complied.

Once his eyes were screwed up tight Carly wiggled free of her shirt and darted up the staircase.

"It's safe now!" she hollered down.

Spencer opened his eyes and appraised his situation. The poor shirt clung securely to his palms and fingers.

"Now what dissolves cotton…" he mused, tugging and pulling on the thin fabric as he made his way to the kitchen to find a spatula.

Although the doctor had assured the group that Sam was probably fine, he had still suggested she get some bed rest over the next few days. When he said he suspected a heavy period as the culprit Sam bite her cheek so hard she drew blood in an effort not to bust out laughing.

Sam was seated against the headboard, nestled in a fortress of pillows and blankets. Every time Carly came to check on her, the pile grew seemingly larger. Sam wasn't even sure where all of the bed accessories were coming from after a while. On the TV a crappy ninja movie, Ninjas of Love, was steaming from WebFlicks. She laughed when she heard a knock on the door.

"Come in!" Sam called, "Carls, you do know that this your be— w-where's your shirt?"

Carly closed the door behind, crawling onto the bed to join her girlfriend.

"Spencer has it," Carly huffed, pulling back the covers to cuddle up to the blonde.

Sam swallowed the lump forming in her throat. "But, why?" she winched when she heard her voice crack hard on the 'why'.

Carly stretched out, modeling herself to the contours of Sam's side and resting her head on Sam's shoulder. Sam slammed her legs together, preventing the brunette from snaking a leg up in between her own. If Carly noticed, she didn't say anything. Her palms were already sweaty when she wrapped her arm around Carly, resting her hand on the dip of Carly's hip.

"Ninjas of Love, again?" Carly snuggled closer, tossing one leg across Sam's thighs. Sam nearly groaned as the leg grazed her new appendage.

_Oh, this should be fun._

_'Shut up, Samuel!'_ Sam warned.

"It's a classic!" Sam argued, placing a small kiss on the top of Carly's head. One whiff of Carly's natural smell proved that to be a mistake. The scent prodded at Sam's lizard brain, which really only thought about two things— food and sex. Well, okay, three, and Carly. And Carly in any combination with the first two. Food sex. No! Sam shook her head, returning her focus to the movie.

"How are you feeling?" Carly asked, her breath burning in the crock of Sam's neck.

_Yeah. How are you feeling, dear Samantha?_

Sam felt her crotch twitch. ' _If that was you Samuel, I swear to God…!'_

_Heavens no, I don't have that much influence. Probably._

"I'm fine, babe. I told you, you and the doc are worried 'bout nothing," Sam assured her girlfriend, giving her a comforting squeeze.

The heat from Carly's exposed torso seeped through Sam's thin sleeping top, screaming for skin to skin contact. Sam turned her attention back to the screen. An overly dramatic woman was wailing as two men dressed as ninja's fought for her honor. One of them back flipped away, spinning in midair on a barely concealed harness.

"This movie is so bad," Carly laughed, entertained none the less. She smiled to herself, happy to be getting snuggles that she had been sorely missing over the past few days. Some would say that she has a cuddle problem. They would be right.

Sam gave a nervous chuckle, unable to control herself as her cock continued to swell. The phrase 'grower' made so much more sense to the young Puckett now. Carly sighed contently, placing a light peck on the nap of Sam's neck. Sam couldn't help herself, she let out a low moan. The mound of blankets jump ever so slightly right above her hips.

"I'm glad you're feeling better," Carly whispered. Her hand lazily drew circles on the blondes stomach, inching slowly upwards to cup one of Sam's pert breasts. Her thumb grazed the hardening nipple.

"A-ah, me too," Sam whimpered, grabbing at her girlfriends hand. She laced her calloused fingers into Carly's softer ones and pressed their hands into her sternum. Sternums are safe.

Carly pulled back, taking note of how sweaty and red Sam's face appear. Of course the stubborn blonde wouldn't admit it if she still felt ill, Carly mentally noted. She squeezed their interlaced fingers and nestled back down. As much as she would love a night of WebFlicks and chill, Cary was more than content to just watch a movie with her girlfriend.

The mountain of blankets was smothering. Sam felt sweat bead on her forehead and silently prayed that Carly wouldn't notice. The last thing Sam wanted was for her overly concerned girlfriend to strip her of her blanket concealing mechanism.

_You most certainly do not want to think about dear Miss Shay's breasts pressed against you._

_'Seriously, dude?'_  the rebel scowled mentally.

_Or her lips, the ones you've imagined a dozen times sliding along your ne-_

_'What the hell, man!'_  Sam gritted her teeth, feeling another twinge course though her body. It was already so hard it hurt to think about.

Carly shifted, her thigh grazing the rock hard shaft. Sam bit her lip so hard she could taste blood when the brunette repeated the action.

"You lost socks in your boxers again," Carly commented, thinking nothing else of it.

_How often do socks end up in your under drawers?!_  Samuel cried incredulously.

Sam gave a halting head nod, her heart racing so hard in her chest she was sure that Carly could hear it.

_No, seriously. Who habitually loses clothing in their drawers?_

Sam realized she had started holding her breath and reminded herself to breath. She took several shallow breathes, afraid any sort of movement might reveal her secret to the younger Shay.

"Carly!" Spencer shouted from downstairs. "I need your help!"

Carly sighed and rolled her eyes so hard they threatened to roll out of her head.

"Coming!" she called back. She leaned up and gave Sam a fat, wet kiss. "I'll be right back," she promised.

As soon as Carly was out the door (adorned in a new shirt) Sam bolted out of the bed and into the adjoining bathroom. The front of her dark green boxer shorts was already stained with a smidge of precum and it only took a few strokes for her come in her most earth-shattering orgasm yet. Sam dabbed at the front of her boxers with toilet paper, trying to dry up the stain.

"You can't hid this forever," Samuel commented from the mirror.

Sam glared at him, giving up on her attempt at cleaning herself up. "What the hell was that about back there!" she hissed, grabbing the edge of the counter.

"You have to tell her," Samuel iterated.

"I don't have to do anything," Sam growled, jabbing her finger against the glass. "And I don't appreciate you fucking with me and my relationship!"

"Don't poke me, I know where your hands have been!" Samuel huffed, pretending to swat her away. "I'm just trying to help you."

"Help? Help?" Sam scoffed. "All you've done is fuck up my life. Pregnant? You want me to get the love of life pregnant. And what if," Sam swallowed hard, "what if Carly isn't my soulmate. What then? I go around knocking up every woman that will let me?!"

Samuel's shoulder sank and his usual dismissive cantor evaporated. "I am sorry, Samantha. I truly am…"

Sam spat into the sink, "Save your sorry's. A fat lot of good they do me now. I will tell Carly. In my own time. Now leave me alone, I don't want to see your scummy face for while!"

Samuel flinched. The image in the mirror wavered and where once stood a man was just Sam's plain old reflection. The blonde slammed her fists onto the counter top and let loose a string of curses. With a deep breath, she returned to her blanket fort and waited for Carly to return. From the smell of smoke wafting up from the downstairs, it might be a while.


	5. Carly, Meet Samuel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carly finds out about Sam's not-so-small secret and sexual tension runs high

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And the rating sky-rockets, you've been warned.

_Charlotte moaned into Samuel’s mouth, wrapping her legs around his waist even tighter. The gentleman groped blindly for the door handle, shifting his hold on his beloved to gain entrance into the small tavern room._

_“I’ve missed you,” Charlotte whispered, lavishing Samuel with feverish kisses._

_“I dare say, I missed you more,” Samuel growled._

_He tossed her onto the small bed in the corner of the room and shrugged off his suit jacket. Charlotte shuffled to her knees, her hands working diligently on the buckle of his belt. Samuel gently grabbed her chin and tilted her face to draw her into a wet, open-mouthed kiss. With surprising ease Charlotte worked his slacks down. She reached out and gently caressed the lengthy bulge growing between his legs. The blond pulled back and tugged off his shoes, pulling off the remaining clothing on his lower body._

_“God, I need you,” Charlotte moaned._

_The fire burning within Samuel exploded at Charlotte’s wonton plea. He hoisted her dress above her hips and flipped her onto her back, pinning the fair woman. Her curls bounced and she gave a small yip of surprise. Samuel leaned down, sealing her mouth his. He grabbed his throbbing cock, gliding it up and down her swollen slit a few times before thrusting in…._

Sam bolted awake, gasping for breath. Sweat glistened her skin and her chest heaved erratically. She ran her hands through her hair, slicking her bangs back. The fog from being rudely jerked from her sleep clouded her thoughts. She tiredly looked around the darkened room, trying to clutch at the memory of her dream. It felt, important.

The bathroom mostly belonged to Melanie. While identical in appearance, the twins really couldn’t more different in personality. The counter was cluttered in beauty products of all sorts. Sam splashed some cold water on her face. Her tired reflection stared back at her. Samuel still hadn’t showed himself since their last encounter.

Sam sighed.

The following morning found the young Puckett in the Shay’s kitchen. Carly stood over the stove frying some bacon. The pancake monstrosity dripped ominously in the living room.

“Where’s Spencer?” Sam asked, spinning atop her barstool.

“Out of town for the weekend for a conference,” Carly answered. She strolled over to the counter and leaned suggestively across it, a sparkle in her eyes. “We have the whole flat to ourselves this week.”

Sam caught Carly’s eyes during one of her spins, smiling back at her adorable girlfriend. It was their first year anniversary this weekend. It’d been over two weeks since the incident in the attic. Somehow Sam had been able to keep her new secret, well, a secret. The two ate breakfast, idly chatting about their plans for the weekend.

“Hey, Carly?” Sam pushed her empty plate away. “Can we, can we talk?”

Carly swallowed hard. She paused, carefully putting her fork down. So, Sam was finally talk, huh?

“Carly?” Sam questioned, reaching out and placing her warm calleoused hands on top of Carly’s.

The contact soothed some of the nerves that sprung to life in the brunette’s stomach. “Yeah, I mean yeah, of course. What’s up, Sam?”

Sam took a deep breath, the words resting on the tip of her tongue but refusing to fall from her lips. She puffed her cheeks, her grip on Carly’s hand tightening.

“Something,” Sam felt herself being to tremble. “Something happened to me, back at Grandma’s.”

Carly nudged her plate aside, reaching across the table to take Sam’s other hand. Worry colored her face.

“Sam…” she reassured, brown eyes searching the soft features of her girlfriend.

“I found something in the attic. An old bottle,” Sam could feel Carly’s gaze on her but refused to meet her eyes.

Cold sweat collected on Sam’s palms.

“Fuck,” Sam cursed, pulling her hands back and wiping them on her pants.

“Hey, you can tell me. Whatever you did, you can tell me,” Carly said.

Sam looked up, flinching at the worry she could see in Carly’s face.

“Something about spirits and some drink called Shen,” Sam fumbled in her explanation. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes. “And now Samuel needs a new host and it’s all mess,” she choked.

Carly furrowed her eyes, unable to follow the broken explanation. “I don’t understand, who is Samuel?” she asked.

“He’s me, but me if I were a dude, but a past life,” Sam continued to fumble.

Sam cursed her inability to explain. Carly yelped when Sam snatched her by the wrist, dragging her out of her chair and into the bathroom.

“Uh, Sam?” Carly prodded, growing increasingly concerned for her girlfriends mental state.

“Just, wait.” Sam waved Carly off. “Samuel, get your sorry ass out here.”

The two girls stared at the mirror in awkward silence.

“Samuel!” Sam scowled, leaning closer to the glass.

“Sam…” Carly reached out, gently placing her hand on Sam’s shoulder. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

Sam huffed, rocking on her feet. Where was her annoying past life?

“You didn’t drink some sort of poison hiding in your grandmother’s attic, did you?” Carly asked.

“No, I swear. Just wait!” Sam assured her, staring intently into her own reflection.

Carly bit her lip, worry turning into genuine concern.

 _‘Where are you?’_ Sam mentally snapped.

Silence.

“Sam?” Carly pulled on the blondes shoulder, turning her around. “Do I need to take you to the doctor?” she implored.

Sam groaned, thrumming out of her own skin between her nerves and growing anger. “No, Carly. I drank the Shen, Samuel is in me,” she stressed. “He appears in mirrors!”

“I’m calling a cab,” Carly pulled her phone out. “Are you still banned from the Seattle Health ER?” she asked.

Sam snatched away Carly’s phone. “No! You aren’t listening Carls. The Chinese lady said—“

“Give me my phone back!” Carly said, reaching for the stolen device.

Sam held the device at bay, frustration mounting. She dropped the phone to the floor, grabbing Carly’s outreached hand and shoving down the front of her loose basketball shorts.

“W-wha, Sam!” Carly cried, startled. “What are you doi— wh-what, what is that?” she asked, gripping the soft shaft in her palm.

“Samuel is one of my past lives. I drank his spirit and now I have a dick,” Sam deadpanned.

Carly nodded dumbly.

“You have a penis?” she clarified.

“Yes.”

Carly pulled her hand out, tugging the blondes waistband away so she could look down her shorts. The brunette nodded again, letting go of the elastic.

“I found the bottle in Grandma Puckett’s attic. I got super sick after I drank it, and woke up the next morning like this,” Sam gestured weakly at her crotch. “The only cure is to make a new body for Samuel’s spirit to live in. That’s why we went to Chinatown…I lied about the pickled shark.”

“Wow, that’s,” Carly stammered, “wow.”

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Miss Shay,” Samuel piped up, stepping to the side of Sam in the mirror so that she could see him.

Sam whirled onto the mirror, jabbing her finger against the glass. “Where were you?” she growled. 

Carly looked back and forth between the two Puckett’s before her. Her head was whipping so quickly Sam was afraid she’d end up with whiplash is she didn’t slow down.

“Doing as you requested,” he shrugged.

Sam’s baggy blue shorts and tight white and grey stripped tank top made for quite the contrast against Samuels clean cut blue three piece suit. Carly turned on her heel, walking mechanically up the stairs.

“Hey!” Sam shouted, watching the brunette ascend the stairs. “Where are you going?” she called out.

Carly shook her head, ignoring the shouts from below. “Dreaming, I must still be dreaming…” she mumbled to herself.

Sam leaned back into the bathroom, quirking an eyebrow at her past life.

“She’s taking this quite well,” Samuel noted with mock optimism.

“I need to stop watching Ninjas of Love with Sam before bed,” Carly continued to mumble. “Weird freaking dreams….”

The brunette paused halfway up the stairwell, twisting to look back at Sam. The flustered and bewildered look in Sam’s eyes looked so real. The young Shay reached up and pinched her arm, letting out a surprised yelp.

“That hurt!” Carly cried, rubbing her bicep.

“Well yeah, babe, pinching the crap outta yourself is going to hurt,” Sam commented from the bathroom doorway.

A thick silence fell between the two girls.

“Think she finally gets it?” a masculine voice drifted out of the bathroom.

Sam turned back, addressing the wall Carly knew held the mirror.

“Starting to look like it,” Sam replied.

“It’s real?” Carly gapped.

“Carly,” Sam cautioned, scuttling over to the landing as she watched the color drain from Carly’s face. “Carls! Hey! No fainting on the stairs!” Sam warned.

Carly stumbled a little, catching herself on the handrail. Sam rushed up the stairwell, helping Carly regain her balance.

“I’m so sorry Carls,” Sam whispered into Carly’s hair.

Carly pulled back, her eyes refocusing. “Whoa whoa whoa,” she sat down on the stairs, patting the step next to her for Sam to sit down on. “Start from the beginning.”

By the time Carly felt like she had a better grasp of situation lunch time had come and gone. The two young women sat on the couch in the living room.

“I’m not getting pregnant,” Carly stated matter-of-factly.

Sam cringed and nodded.

“Yet,” Carly amended. “I mean, one day maybe, but we are just starting college!”

Sam felt her heart skip a beat at ‘yet’.

“There has to be another cure,” Carly insisted, allowing herself to fall against Sam’s side. “We will figure this out Sam, Samuel.”

“You really don’t need to talk to him,” Sam scoffed, crinkling her nose.

“Well, he is there all the time isn’t he?” Carly asked.

“Actually, I don’t know! Samuel, where do you go when you aren’t being an obnoxious and unwanted personal narrator?” Sam inquired.

Carly watched in fascination. Sam cocked her head to the side, eyes shifting from neutral to Puckett mad.

“What’d he say?” Carly asked.

“That he’s an asshole,” Sam replied. Carly gave her a nudge. “Fine, fine. That he’s an asshole _and_ that he sleeps a lot.”

Carly leaned into Sam’s side, resting her head on her shoulder.

“You’re taking this a lot better than I thought you would,” Sam admitted.

“Honestly, I don’t think it’s all really sunk in yet,” Carly admitted back.

How could she have missed it? Carly thought to herself. She traced the outline of Sam’s cock through the thin fabric of her shorts with her eyes. She bite her lip, her hand slowly across Sam’s thighs— slow enough that the Puckett could stop her advance if she so wanted.

Sam nearly choked on her own tongue when she felt Carly’s hand snake across her lap and graze her soft dick. She looked imploringly at Carly, but the brunette refused to meet her eyes. A pink flush covered Carly’s face, her eyes intently staring off to the side at the floor. Slowly she dragged her fingers up and down Sam’s full length, applying a soft pressure the fabric of Sam’s shorts.

It felt amazing. Sam shifted her hips unconsciously, giving her girlfriend a better angle. Her breathing quickened into short rasps and her knuckles turned white from clenching her fists tight. Her member began to swell, engorging with blood. Carly felt it stiffen and grow beneath her hand, causing her to shoot a few quick glances at the blondes lap. The once subtle outline was now bold and striking.

Her dick throbbed, begging to be released from the confines of her boxers. Sam sucked on her teeth, squirming in her seat.

“C-Carls?” Sam gasped.

The younger Shay shook her head, still refusing to make eye contact. “Is this okay?” she asked quietly.

It was all the blonde could do to nod vigorously. Her hips bucked just slightly with each stroke.

Slowly the motions stopped. Carly shifted, twisting to sit perpendicular to Sam on the sofa. Her hands trembled softly as she brought both of them up to the elastic waist band. Sam’s heart beat so loudly in her chest she feared it might explode. With painstaking care, Carly dragged down the shorts and boxers. Sam’s cock burst out, all 7 inches shooting up to rest on the blonde’s stomach.

Her dick throbbed. Thick veins ran up its’ length, topped by a swollen head. A dribble of precum glistened at the top. Carly went wide-eyed at the sight, unprepared for how well-endowed her girlfriend had become. She wrapped her hand around the base of Sam’s shaft and noted that it was thicker than the strap-on hidden upstairs.

“Fuck, Carls,” Sam said. It was completely different from the times Sam had taken care of her problem herself. The cool pressure of Carly’s hand wrapped around her girth was almost enough to bring the inexperienced Puckett to orgasm right there.

Carly stared up at Sam and marveled. Sam’s head was thrown back, her face flushed in a cute pink. Carly’s brown eyes darkened, following the rise and fall of Sam’s breasts as her breaths became quicker, hard nipples peaking through the thin fabric of the blondes tank top. A pulse of desire swept through Carly, her own core fluttering in arousal. Carly leaned in even closer, nuzzling her face into the long expanse of Sam’s exposed neck, her eyes almost black and she stared down between Sam’s heaving chest to her rock-hard erection. Slowly, Carly started to inch her hand up and down applying a slight pressure.

The building could have been on fire and Sam wouldn’t have been able to notice. Her head was swimming, the sensations coming from her cock clouding out all coherent thought. One of her hands made it’s way up Carly’s back, her hand knotting itself into Carly’s long curls, pressing her girlfriend further into her body. Everything was tingling, her body was on fire. The pace was maddening, the pressure delightful but torturous. Sam bucked her hips and groaned, a heavy swell building at the base of her dick.

Carly caught a moan in her throat, her whole body rocking with each thrust of Sam’s hips against her hand. She twisted her head and bite down hard on to the nap of Sam’s neck, one of the blonde’s biggest weaknesses. Immediately Sam jerked, a guttural groan falling from her lips as she shot rope after rope of cum into the air as she felt the pressure explode in a mind-numbing release.

The world slowly came back into focus for Sam. She looked down to find Carly slowly pumping her own semen up and down her cock, making the softening length glisten in the living room light. Heart still pounding, Sam cupped Carly’s chin and brought them together in a heated kiss.

“I think I get why guys are always thinking with their dicks,” Sam joked with a small smile.

“Do you now?” Carly asked, biting at Sam’s lower lip.

Sam disentangled herself from Carly and pulled up her shorts, concealing her flaccid secret. Carly was unable to catch her sad whimper, her own body screaming to be touched.

“Oh, bae. Never fear, a Puckett always has room for dessert. I’m thinking you, cupcake,” Sam winks.

Carly squeaked in surprise when Sam grabbed her by the waist and flipped her onto her back on the couch. The flowing tshirt and blue jeans were deftly stripped off. Sam’s wet, warm mouth wrapped around Carly’s nipple, her tongue swirling in intricate patterns around the pert pebble. A brief spike of panic flashed through Carly’s body when calloused hands ran along the hem of Carly’s lace thong, tugging the thin fabric down.

“Sam!” Carly said, her hands shooting down to stop Sam’s progress. “We can’t, you know…”

The seriousness of Carly’s tone pulled Sam out of her aroused stupor. The blonde doesn’t remove her hands from the thong, but she sat back to regard Carly.

“Carls, I promise you I will never do anything without your consent. You do know that, right?” Sam asked.

Carly stared up at Sam, hyper aware of the slight pressure of Sam’s cock on her thigh. But as she looked into those deep blue eyes, Carly felt a small swell of shame. It was Sam, her Sam, the same Sam she’d fallen in love it. She leaned up and peeked Sam on the lips.

“I know Sam.”

Sam smiled back at Carly before playfully pushing her back into the sofa. Sam nipped and bite her way down Carly’s body, stopping at the crux of Carly’s dripped sex.

“Like I said, Princess, I wanted to eat dessert,” Sam said.

The first firm stroke of Sam’s tongue against Carly’s clit felt like a lightening strike to her nervous system. Carly’s legs wrapped around Sam’s body of their own volition, her hands threading into long blonde locks. Sam grabbed the thighs squeezing her head, her nails digging into the lightly tanned flesh. She started with slow, firm licks so she could savor Carly’s taste. The brunette pushed Sam’s face closer, rocking her hips impatiently against Sam’s mouth. Carly moaned loudly in appreciation as Sam took her cue, her hips rocking in time with the ministrations of Sam’s tongue. It didn’t take long for Carly to climb to orgasmic heights, clutching Sam in place as she rode her face through her orgasm, her whole body racking with pleasure.

Finally, Carly release Sam from between her legs. Sam whipped her face on her forearm, sliding up Carly’s body to cuddle up with her girlfriend on the couch. The two laid there in silence, enjoying the others warmth.

“Sam?” Carly asked.

“Yeah?”

“We’re going to find a way to solve this,” Carly reassured her.

Sam sighed deeply. The pessimist in her was afraid to hope that they’d find a cure. And the young woman in love was afraid to find out if Carly was actually her soulmate or not.

“In the meantime I need to see the doctor,” Carly continued.

“Why?” Sam asked.

“Birth control, duh. Oh, and you should get some condoms.”


End file.
